[ … so not influenced by powder. gotcha. he doesn’t even know what to do with that. did it wear off in the span of the two breaths it took shiro to say no? or did it wear off before… -- he puts a thumbtack in that thought and promptly refuses to finish it. of course, the explanation that inevitably comes to justify why nimble fingers were coaxing his pants open makes some semblance of sense. just not a lot. eager as shiro remembers himself being, he thinks he didn’t need the help, but ah well, keith’s always been particularly hands on when he sees a task needing to be done.

… somehow, putting it in those terms doesn’t make him feel any better.

how he feels right now doesn’t matter though, because he knows that look. he has roughly three seconds before keith cuts his losses and turns tail to escape the panic shiro knows is suffocating his thoughts and coaxing out that anger. ]

Keith. Wait.

[ and that’s as far as he gets. he glances to those boots as well and hesitates on a noticeable pause that inevitably breaks on a sigh. gaze finds its way back to keith and now he’s the one frowning, albeit kinder -- more cautious than angry. ]

I want to talk about this. [ the words are out and then he thinks shirt. where is it again? having to even wonder has him agitated and antsy, the nervous energy pushing him to run his fingers through his hair. only to promptly wince when his hand comes back red and green. ]

After. [ a beat. ] Once we’re both clean.

[ of course he wants to talk about it. it likely doesn’t need saying. keith is… just about the most important person to him, here and back home. mind altering powder that makes you say weird things is bad enough, but if shiro damaged the comfortable trust between them by touching keith so freely… ]

Just know that I don’t blame you. [ even if he blames himself for something he, logically, knows isn’t his fault. ] And this doesn’t change anything between us.

[ at least he hopes it doesn’t. right keith? they’re still good, right? ]